


Master of Birds

by Phileas



Series: French cuisine [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Smooth wooing of a poet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:03:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phileas/pseuds/Phileas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“- In this fantastical land of myth some call Livinroom, a quest awaits us. Deprived of light until morning comes, a young man will drink with a faun, the green man of Old, master of birds.” Slowly, he brushed his hands on Jehan's hips who didn't dare move. “At the very heart of this land, lay a dark and dangerous forest. Many had crossed the edge of the cursed wood, never to return. For decades, not a single soul dared to trespass...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master of Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: “Building a furniture and blanket fort during a thunder or snow storm. Use the words : medieval, lacking, mediocre, pigeon, filter (verb), and wreckage. Good luck !”
> 
> English is not my native language, please excuse any mistakes I might have missed.

* * *

 

“- _There is an unknown land full of strange flowers and subtle perfumes, a land of which it is joy of all joys to dream, a land where all things are perfect and poisonous_.” 

Jehan turned his eyes toward Courfeyrac who just entered the living room with all the grandiosity that quoting Oscar Wild could give you. 

He sauntered toward Jehan and took his hand. Slowly, he stretched the arm of the poet and came to stand behind him. With the utmost care, he kissed the curve of Jehan's neck, making him blush. 

“- What are you doing up at this hour, dear soul? It's almost 3 in the morning.” He asked.

“- The same thing as you, I believe. The storm keeps me awake. 

\- _Poets are always taking the weather so personally_...” remarked Courfeyrac, and Jehan shook his head in amusement. The storm was raging outside the building, and by the window Jehan could see the sudden burst of electric lightning. Courfeyrac abandoned him to approach the window and stare at the rain, and Jehan busied himself once more with the confection of hot chocolate on the gas powered stove. They had lost electricity almost half an hour ago and Jehan had to retrieve the half dozen torches hidden somewhere in the entrance closet. They were now all lying on the table except for the one he had hanged above him to use the kitchen. 

“- Would you like something to drink? I can boil some water for tea or coffee. There is also hot milk if you'd like some. And chocolate powder.

\- Coffee sounds great if we're going to stay up. Exciting!” Courfeyrac said, smiling.

Jehan spared him an amused look and filled a saucepan with tap water. It was starting to boil when Courfeyrac hooked his chin above Jehan's shoulder. 

“- In this fantastical land of myth some call Livinroom, a quest awaits us. Deprived of light until morning comes, a young man will drink with a faun, the green man of Old, master of birds.” Slowly, he brushed his hands on Jehan's hips who didn't dare move. “At the very heart of this land, lay a dark and dangerous forest. Many had crossed the edge of the cursed wood, never to return. For decades, not a single soul dared to trespass...” 

A small smile was now playing on Jehan's lips, who put the water out of the fire and grabbed the coffee pot. 

“- But pray tell me...” He asked as he was putting ground coffee in the pot with a spoon. “How then, did the young man ended up drinking with the master of birds?

\- Ha! Excellent question.” Grinned Courfeyrac. 

 

Once the coffee was filtered and poured, they moved to the living room. While Jehan had been busy with their drinks, Courfeyrac had apparently stripped both their bed from their sheets and linen and had somehow managed to build a medieval looking tent with broomsticks and the hat hanger from the hall, the sofa and armchairs had been recycled into cushioned walls, and the torches were all lit under several coloured pieces of paper that Feuilly used to make his fans. At this sight, Jehan smiled, embarrassed, and lowered his eyes. 

“- Ha. This is lovely.” 

He followed Courfeyrac inside the made-up bivouac and sat among the blankets and pillows, folding his tall frame under the fragile roof. Both men were slightly too tall to be comfortably sitting and they ended up half lying on the ground, one of Courfeyrac's foot out of the fort. 

 

“- Tell me about this young man, going to the wood.”

Courfeyrac smiled and took a deep breath.

“- Well then... _Il était une fois, il n'était pas une fois._.. “

 

Once upon a time, once upon no time, was a young man. He lived on his own but lacked nothing. He had wealth and a house from his parents, clothes for the winter and food on his table. But what he did not have was mates. And he would have given is comfort away for two or three person to call his friends. His name was Courf. 

( _Jehan smiled._ )

His village was on the border of the Cursed Wood and as he was growing up, he would always look to the trees in wonder, asking around what was in the forest and receiving words of caution instead. 

 

One day, for there is always one of those around the corner, he decided that the life he was living was not enough and packed a bag with a few clothes, food and a book. Adventure was calling him and he was never one to stay insensible to the siren's song. 

He stood at the border of the forest, his eyes trying to see through the shadows. All the warning he has ever been told came back to his mind, but he toughened his heart and went into the wood. 

For a few days he wandered. On his third afternoon he stumbled upon a orchard and ate the most delicious peach he had ever tasted. He was left with the stone when he heard a voice.

“- I wouldn't mind that stone if you could spare it, Monsieur.” 

Courf looked around, surprised for he hadn't noticed anyone when he entered the orchard. And for sure, there was someone. A man dressed all in black, with black curly hair, black tie and black shoes was looking at him. His eyes were a little crazy and his hands seemed to be perpetually moving. Courf held the stone to him.

“- Of course. Is it your orchard? I didn't mean to trespass. 

\- It is my orchard. But I do not mind trespassers. I grow the peaches for their stones and never eat the fruits. Eat more if you'd like.” Responded the strange man as he delicately retrieved the peach-stone. 

“- And what” asked Courf, “do you exactly do with the stones?” 

The man puffed with pride and smiled.

“- Young man, I make the most incredible peach-stone liquor in the county.”

( _“It's Grantaire!” said Jehan with a laugh._ )

Courf took an other peach, as he was allowed too, and bit into it as he followed the strange man around. 

“- Peach-stone liquor is the most exquisite beverage in all Livinroom. And since the best peaches grow in the Cursed Forest, I am the only one to brew it, for I am the only one foolish enough to dare. It has been a long long time, my young friend, since I've had a visitor. You'll drink with me, for sure!”

The man in black looked at him with hope, and Courf who didn't have anything better to do and who saw there the possibility of friendship accepted at once. 

And what an evening it was. Peach cobbler was baked, fresh cheese was eaten on bread and a lot of liquor was consumed. Tales were traded and upon hearing his project of adventure, R (that was the name of the man in black) immediately asked to come with him. 

“- I have nothing in my life but the peach-stone and I could use a friend, young Courf. I have been on my own for centuries and the only thing I trust is my next batch of peach-stones liquor. Take me with you. I can be of help, I'm sure.”

Courf didn't hesitated a second and accepted the offer with enthusiasm. Good company was at the heart of all things. 

Thus, the following morning, Courf and R (charged with his small portable brewing pots, several bottles full of liquor and two dozen peaches.) went further into the forest. 

 

“- Hey.” 

Courfeyrac and Jehan startled and moved around as Grantaire crawled inside the blanket fort. He was smiling and in his hands was a cup of the coffee Jehan had made earlier.

“- Can I stay for the rest of the tale? I like it.

\- You heard all of it?

\- Only the part where I'm an immortal peach brewer. Did I miss much?

\- Not really.”

Once everyone was settled, Courfeyrac resumed his story. 

 

They walked all day, and rested in a clearing during the night. For the first time since he had entered the forest, Courf could see the sky. The stars were incredibly visible and while R was setting his own little brewery not too far away, he looked at the stars. 

But suddenly, an gigantic shape obstructed the view and Courf stood up hastily as an enormous blue dragon landed in the clearing. Fire came out of his nostrils and almost toasted R's hat, who jumped around and took in the view of the dragon. 

“- Holly Molly!”

( _Grantaire snorted._ ) 

The dragon looked at the smaller men and huffed. A hot puff of air reached the two companions. 

“- And who the hell are you, now?” Asked the dragon. Courf took a prudent step toward the beast and bowed a little.

“- My name is Courf, and this is R. We are two travelling friends, in search of new and marvellous things.”

The dragon seemed to think about this for a while and turned his attention to the brewing pots.

“- And what is this?

\- This, Sir Dragon,” Said R with a conspiratorial air, “Is my personal brewery. For I am the Grand R, who brew Peach-stone Liquor.”

The dragon expressed interest in this information and was given a whole bottle for himself to keep, as a sign of good-faith, and was invited to drink with them. 

As promised, the liquor was indeed the best in all Livinroom and the dragon found himself greatly satisfied. He asked for their plan in the morrow, and they answered that they had planned to go further East, deeper in the forest. The dragon fell silent at this and looked at them mournfully.

“- Are you quite well, Sir Dragon?” asked R, patting the dragon on his big paw.

“- I wish I could come with you, truthfully.

\- Is your size the problem? If you would, we'd let you come with us, surely!”

Upon hearing R's paroles, Courf nodded.

“- For sure!” 

The dragon considered the both of them and hummed a little. 

“- I guess I could change. Make myself into one of you lot. But I have no clothes and no possession other than my knowledge.

\- I have spare clothes!” Said Courf, “And you knowledge is a most precious commodity!”

The dragon hummed some more and in the blink of an eye a man stood where the dragon was a second ago. Courf gave him his spare clothes and they all sat around the fire.

“- What shall we call you then, Sir Dragon?” asked Courf.

“- Call me Ferre.”

( _“- I knew it!” cried out Jehan. Grantaire simply chuckles in his coffee._ )

 

Courf, R and Ferre went on their merry way the following morning. Talking of all the wonders they had seen and were yet to see. 

The evening was approaching when they heard a melancholic melody. Someone was singing a very old song. A song speaking of battles won and lost lives. Of glorious company when never a day passed by without music. They decided to move toward the sound and stumbled upon the bank of a river. On the other side was a knight, leading his horse to water. 

( _“-Oh, I know who that is...” murmured Jehan._ ) 

The knight presented a lovely if slightly bitter-sweet picture. He was looking at the sky and the clouds while singing and his blond hair would spread over his shoulders. His face was soft and young, a straight nose and full lips. His armour was entirely white and he was holding a red oriflamme, flapping in the wind at the end of a high staff.

He was probably the fairest person any of them had ever seen. 

( _“- This is the most lyrical description of him I've ever heard.” Said Grantaire. “Even I never reached those highs. You're a master, Courfeyrac...” But his face was soft and his lips were barely leaving the rim of his cup, hiding a smile_.)

“- There has not been any knights in Livinroom for centuries now... How peculiar.” Said Ferre. 

“- I know him.” muttered R, his eyes glued to the fair knight. “I've seen him once or twice by my orchard. He is lost in the wood, has been for a long time. I let him eat the peaches but I've never talked to him. He always leave the stones behind.”

Courf looked at the knight and took a step toward the riverbank. The knight ceased his song and turned is head in his direction, having heard his step on the pebbles. He stared at the company of three and frowned. 

“- Hello.” His voice was clear across the river.

“- Ha, Hello! I'm Courf. And this is Ferre and the man in black is R.”

The knight looked patiently at each of them and nodded.

“- I would respond in such, but the time has long forgotten my name. I am sorry. Call me as you wish.”

( _“- Orestes.” whispered Grantaire._

_“_ _\- Galaad” said Jehan_.)

“- We shall then call you Ange.

( _Both men groaned._

_“- What???” said Courfeyrac, helpless. “That's the only reasonable shortening of his name!”_ )

The knight bowed his head again. 

“- May I ask you where you're headed?

\- We are going toward the East. In quest of an adventure.

\- A quest?”

The knight straightened and he almost smiled, his curiosity picked.

“- Would you care to join?” asked R, hopeful. 

“- It would be an honour to join your quest, friends. Give me a minute.”

He turned around and after patting the neck of his horse, mounted it in order to cross the river. 

“- And what is the name of your horse, knight?” asked Ferre. 

“- Her name is Patria.”

( _Grantaire sniggered mellowly._ ) 

Ange, for it was now his name, dismounted once on the other side of the river and bowed his head a little. 

“- I shall now travel with you.”

Peaches were eaten, liquor was drank (except by the knight) and handshakes were exchanged. 

Soon enough, they were on the road again. They travelled two days without any other encounter, would it be bad or good and Courf started to wonder where were the dangers, ogres and witches he had been promised by the village elders. The dragon and immortals he was travelling with were friendly to say the least and excellent company! 

 

It was during a very damp morning that they happened upon a group of three men, apparently engrossed in a eventful game of domino. 

One of them was barely recognisable as his head was hidden by a large black hat and a mask of what looked like a deformed raven, that was covering his whole face. His muffled voice would boom out of his lungs in bouts of delighted laughter. 

By his side was a bald man that kept calling for numbers without much luck, and had the habit of rubbing his hand over his skull in acceptant defeatism. His clothes were entirely made of dark brown feathers. 

The last man was clothed with black and grey fur and his smiling mouth contained too much teeth to be anything than slightly frightening. On his head was a hood made of a wolf head, the front paw of the beast knotted around his neck. The rest of the animal was draped on his back and the tail was waving in joy. 

 

Courf stared at the three men for a moment, when R let out a delighted noise.

“- Dominoes!” 

He joined the group that apparently saw no problems in including the newcomer to their game, and even less when R presented them with Peach-stone liquor. They cheered and went on with even more gusto. Ange looked at the scene with a frown but said nothing as he started to tend to Patria. Ferre hovered above R's shoulder, making remarks from time to time and Courf joined him. 

When all was said and done, and the Raven-like man won the game with a renewed burst of laughter, they all turned to each other. The Raven bowed very low and extended his arm toward the feathered man.

“- This, my good men, is l'Aigle. Badfortuned fellow, but of marvellous companionship. And this belligerent gent there, is the Wolf that goes by Orel. We are most lucky to be his friends, and what a friend he is! And I, am the Raven. But you can call me Jolllly!” He finished with a flourish. 

“- Well, I am Courf, on a quest for adventure. This is R, he brew the best Peach-stone liquor. And this is Ferre, who breath fire and knowledge at the same time. And the man in white by the horse there, is Ange. He's a knight.”

As the domino game was over, Ange made his way back to the group and said his greetings. 

“- Ha, but one of us is not back yet, Jolllly.” Said the Wolf Orel. “One should never forget the Fox, for he will never forget you!

\- True indeed, my wolfy friend.”

Jolllly, then, took his hat off and shoved his mask up on his forehead. His face was unreasonably cheerful. 

“- I trust you, lads, to not be afflicted by any kind of disease. I for one catch everything.” He said and produced a pocket mirror from inside his waistcoat with which he examined his tongue. “No, we're good... I've heard terrible rumours of the plague, further South, and I'd like to avoid that.” He tapped the tip of his nose with his mirror pocket before putting it back inside his clothes. 

L'Aigle shook his head with the kind of amusement born from habit and drank some more of the liquor. 

“- He should not be too long now.” He said. “He's been gone for the major party of the day, and the master of birds don't live too far away from here.

\- The master of birds?” enquired Ferre. 

Jolllly nodded, and he and l'Aigle started to explain.

“- The one and only master of birds. 

\- Even pigeons! (“Which is a shame.” said Jolllly with disgust. “Diseased vermin!”) 

\- King of the forest.

\- Protector of all things fay!

\- A great poet, I might add.

\- Ho, yes! And he plays the flute with great dexterity!

\- He is very gifted.

\- But this is to be expected from the master of birds.

\- While he himself is more of a...

\- Faun? 

\- A god even! 

\- Yes, yes!”

They turned toward Courf and his friends with smiles in their eyes.

“- It would be good form to present your respects to him at some point.

\- Oh definitely. And a little gift!” Jolllly cried out. 

“- Nothing mediocre.” growled Orel. “What have you got?”

 

They all looked at each other. Ange had some ribbons once given to him by some young maiden, Ferre had a small emerald, R presented his last peach and Courf only had the book he took with him when he left home. 

“- Ho, this is fantastic. He'll love it!”

The animals all nodded at l'Aigle words and they sat for awhile, waiting for the missing fellow. The Fox was indeed not long to appear as he trotted inside the small clearing surrounded by oaks. 

“- Ho hello! I didn't know we had company!”

He was furiously ginger. The same high than Orel, but slender and his hands were ever moving, grasping at things and folding and stealing and giving back with rapidity. Joly introduced everyone and the Fox smiled.

“- Please, call me Feu! I have news, my friends! News from the master of birds!”

 

They all sat in a circle as Feu started his recollection and ended it by these words: 

“- He knows, of course, that you are here. For he knows everything. And he wants to meet you, if you'd like.”

Courf looked at his friends and they all nodded.

“- It would be an honour for us to meet the master of birds. When shall we go?

\- Ho, not before dawn. There is no use in night travelling, for these parts of the forest, at night, belongs to Sir Parn. And while he's not a bad fellow, you're better safe than sorry.”

 

It was then unanimously decided that they would stay the night with the four domino players and that they would all take the road to the Master of birds morning comes. 

At some point during the night, Feu and Orel went to talk with a very dashing man wearing a top hat, standing on the edge of the clearing, looking at them with sharp eyes and silver in his hands. A few words were exchanged, and the dapper man left, apparently satisfied. 

Feu sat back near Courf and looked at him. It was Sir Parn, he said. Lord of the night and all things lost. He and the master of birds had an agreement. Sir Parn would reign during the night while the day belonged to the Master. He said that summer and winter were thus equally shared and that Sir Parn had consent in letting them pass unharmed, for they were headed to the master of Birds' domain. 

Courf nodded wordlessly, in awe, and closed his eyes for the rest of the night. 

 

In the blanket fort, Grantaire had fallen asleep, curled around his now empty cup of coffee. Jehan put a blanket over him and smiled at Courfeyrac. He made a little movement with his head, inviting the self-appointed storyteller to go on. 

 

Early at dawn, they rose and prepared for the journey. It would take the major party of the day and they would arrive at the Master of birds' domain in the late afternoon. They did not lose any time and barely stopped to eat around one in the afternoon. 

When the birds started to talk excitedly, they knew that they had arrived, and all (even Ange) sighed with relief. The pace was not the one they used to have, when they strolled more than anything else. 

The domain was nothing more than an other small clearing, but the trees were so artfully crafted that it seemed like the interior of a room. 

Sat in a chair, in the most strange clothes Courf had ever seen, was a tall and young man. He had strawberry blond hair and a very pale complexion, freckles on his shoulders and his back as far as Courf could see. He was talking to an actual bird, perched on the armrest of his chair.

As they entered the place, the Master of Birds turned his head toward them and Courf felt his heart stop. The man was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

( _Jehan flushed, eyes wide._ )

The master of birds rose from his seat and greeted them all. He took every token presented to him with a smile and a kind word, for he was soft spoken and a good man. He asked each of them about their quest, hopes and dreams, and they dinned. It was a lovely evening and as they were eating, each one of them felt more refreshed and happy than they had ever been. Even Ange and R, who took a habit of quarrelling (at R's dismay), were talking pleasantly. 

Courf, for his part, couldn't look anywhere else than in the direction of the master of birds. He was captivated by his beauty, and even more by his mind. 

More than anything, in that instant, he wished he could stay here for ever and that if only one thing should be the subject of his eyes for the rest of his days, it should be the fay creature. Courf thought that eternity would never been too long...

 

“- Courfeyrac.” Interrupted Jehan. 

“- Yes? 

\- I'm going to kiss you know.”

 

* * * 

 

It was around 10, the following morning, when Combeferre and Enjolras let themselves in with their spare key. Jehan, Courfeyrac and Grantaire's flat was the biggest of the group and they would often pile in it at every odd hour of the day. 

But today, they stopped net in the entrance. The wreckage of the living room was a sight to behold. 

 “- What... even.” muttered Combeferre. 

 

Enjolras advanced further into the flat and saw Courfeyrac's foot, still out of the fort. He knelt in front of what he judged was the entrance and put his head inside. His eyes lingered on the entwined forms of Jehan and Courfeyrac before landing on the small ball that, judging by the curly black hair on the pillow, was Grantaire. 

He let himself smile a bit and got out of the fort to face Combeferre.

“- They're inside, the three of them.” He whispered. 

 

Combeferre rolled his eyes with a helpless gesture of his hands, but smiled.

“- Those three, I swear... I'll go and make some coffee.”

Enjolras went with him. 

 

* * * 

 

Courf had found love and friendship in the cursed woods, and indeed never made it back home.  
The End.   


 

Jehan smiled and brushed his hand on Courfeyrac's face. He whispered against his lips:

“- _The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history_.”

 

They kissed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bossuet is a Bald Eagle... Got it? (haha!)  
> Parnasse and Jehan's relationship will be further explored in an other part, most probably. 
> 
> Introducing:   
> Courfeyrac: Hero.  
> Grantaire: Immortal brewer of Peach-stone liquor.  
> Combeferre: Dragon.  
> Enjolras: Immortal lost-in-the-wood knight.  
> Joly & Bossuet: Raven and Bald Eagle.  
> Feuilly & Bahorel: Fox and Wolf.  
> Jehan: Master of birds.  
> Montparnasse: Lord of the night and all things lost.


End file.
